


lover's tonic

by gabriphales



Series: gomens drabble hell [55]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, Gen, Intoxication, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24895876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: gabriel and crowley look after amildlyintoxicated aziraphale (mild being a sore understatement)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Series: gomens drabble hell [55]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664713
Kudos: 26





	lover's tonic

**Author's Note:**

> hi pls drink responsibly

"sit down, sweetheart."

crowley's voice is sharp and clear to aziraphale's ringing ears. his stomach pulls taut, hot and heavy where it churns inside him. and for a moment, he really thinks he might be disastrously ill. sick on crowley's carpet, the sofa, the floor -

"shit!"

somebody else is talking. aziraphale can't make out what they're saying, he can only focus on the hard stinging in his cheek. the cold wood against his face. he fell over, he must have. because he's suddenly laying down, and nothing hurts - not yet, at least - but crowley is still peering down at him with fretting eyes.

"i heard something, what happened?" the other person speaks again. they come bolting into the room, and thank god, it's only _gabriel._ harmless as they come, really.

"he tripped. i dunno on what. doesn't look hurt, though." crowley explains. aziraphale wants to speak for himself, he wants to say that everything's fine, he feels perfectly peachy, he's happy as can be - 

but it's all too distant. he's watching his surroundings through a marbled, obscured perspective. somewhat there, but not an active participant. he'll be jostled and pushed around, helped onto the couch by crowley, but he's limp the whole while. a pliant creature, gone soft and expired from his own overindulgence.

"lay him on his side. no, no - not on his back, his _side._ " gabriel snaps at crowley, tossing out instructions from the sidelines.

"jesus christ, you shutting up would make my job a lot easier." crowley bites back, slotting a pillow beneath aziraphale's head. it's soft, softer than aziraphale remembers it being last time he had the opportunity to engage with it. he nestles closer, humming a pleased, weary coo. he can hear crowley laughing at him, stroking his back gently.

"do you want blankets, love?" he asks, kneeling to be face-level with aziraphale.

"obviously he needs blankets, he'll be fucking freezing out here!" gabriel grumbles in the background, turning on his heel to rush back down the hallway, leaving crowley's dorm.

"where's he goin'?" aziraphale pouts, trying to sit up - and instantly regretting that decision.

crowley shushes him, pressing him back down with a light, careful hand. "sh, he'll be right back, angel. he's just getting blankets from his place, yeah? remember we're right across the hall from each other."

"mmh," aziraphale can't stuff down a whine. "i want him here. why's he have t'go?"

"just a few minutes, love. you only have to wait a few minutes, if you - "

"i want him _now._ " aziraphale cracks, shuddering with the first wave of his undoubtedly childish sobs. he has enough self awareness left to recognize how ridiculous he's being. but still, he's upset - who's to say he can't express his emotions?

crowley does his best to comfort him, though there's a layer of discontent to his frown that has aziraphale feeling more unsettled by the minute, he seems... jealous, perhaps? upset that he isn't enough for aziraphale - or that he _perceives_ himself as not enough. which is anything but true, it's just that - just that aziraphale needs and needs and _needs_ until it starts to swallow him. he's always been a ravenous creature, and now is no exception. to resist a need, to let it go unfulfilled, _burns_ more than he can describe. and he's crying now, all because he can't accept what he already has. not without all the pieces to complete their crooked puzzle.

"'m sorry," he mumbles, sounding as wretched as feels. "didn't mean to."

"shsh, it's alright. you're okay, you're okay, just - come here, sit in my lap. that's it, that's a love. look at you, made it all by yourself."

aziraphale leans into him, feeling safer than he has all night. his head gets hot and swimmy, and the room tilts to the side. he almost wants to grip onto crowley, just in case he falls again. he resists the urge.

crowley's hand stays on his back long after he passes out.


End file.
